


In the Midnight Hour

by mostlyharmless



Category: South Park
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Dubious Consent, M/M, Post-Apocalypse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-23
Updated: 2013-04-09
Packaged: 2017-11-19 08:09:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/571069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mostlyharmless/pseuds/mostlyharmless
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It begins clean enough. Well, clean as it can be between a vampire hunter who upholds the mores of his conquered clan with gunfire and a vampire from the ruling class with silk clothes and slick teeth and a knack for persuasion. Bring on the rebellion and we'll see how much mess we can make.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Pray Help from Above

**Author's Note:**

  * For [VoodooRadio](https://archiveofourown.org/users/VoodooRadio/gifts).



> This was started as a present for my best friend, to keep her entertained on a very long plane flight. She apparently enjoyed it very much, and I had a lot more to say, so I kept going. That said, the story was going to be a lot longer, but I have decided to end it where it ends for various reasons. Keep that in mind as you read and hope you enjoy.
> 
> The vampire lore is pieced together from things that will be fun. Just roll with it.

Kyle scanned the carnage down the barrel of his submachine gun, waiting. There--one of the bodies in the corner twitched, glowing red eyes cracking open, and Kyle unloaded a magazine into it without hesitation. It slumped against a splintered table, finally dead, white smoke pouring from the bullet holes. Vampires were pretty hard to kill, but this gun was special. It was his birthright.

The plaster dusting his hair and the blood tacky under his boots? Yeah, also his birthright. Vampires were pretty hard to kill, but this was Kyle's family's business.

Well, he thought, reloading, for someone raised to do this he could have done better here. The convent didn't have much money as it was, and he'd let the place get a lot more smashed up than he could have. It's just... the vampires had seemed more desperate than usual. Starving lowbloods, perhaps, looking for an easy meal of nuns and the orphans they sheltered here. But lowbloods didn't usually hunt in gangs like this. Too selfish and stupid for that. And they'd fought like... like they'd been trained.

Suddenly, all the light in the room seemed to dim, and the hair on the back of Kyle's neck stood up. There was a highblood near.

Kyle span, bracing the uzi against his shoulder and levelling it at the interloper in the doorway with clinical precision.

Oh shit. Not just any highblood, either.

"What the hell are you doing here, you fat fuck!"

"Kyle," Cartman drawled, gliding easily around a smashed candelabra on the ground. "I'm hurt. Your first thought isn't that I might be invested in protecting these humans too?"

"No!" snapped Kyle. "You don't give a flying fuck about this convent, why would you. You'd be more likely to eat the people here yourself."

Cartman, as a highblood, was vampire 'royalty'. Their King was said to provide mandated substitute tablets, removing their need for human blood. Besides, a highblood could have anything they wanted at the snap of their fingers, so Cartman would have no apparent need to break into a convent like the starving lowbloods--but Kyle had never trusted Cartman. He was a slimy motherfucker. It was incredibly suspicious that he was here, especially since the lowbloods had already been acting weird.

Plus, it was plainly obvious that Cartman loved to indulge, judging from the way his extravagant silk jacket stretched tight over bulging lovehandles. The fucking asshole.

"You've known me your whole tiny life, Kyyyle. Have you ever known me to kill a human? That would go against my King's wishes, and you know how devout I am."

Kyle snorted, not relaxing his rigid stance by a millimetre. Sure, he'd known Cartman his whole life--generations of Kyle's family had been in tentative contact with the retinue of the Thorn King, oldest known pureblood and supposed human sympathiser, to improve human/vampire relations. No one in Kyle's family really trusted the King, though, let alone the members of his many tumultuous branch families. Mainly because:

"As if I can make you prove it! I have no choice but to just take your word on that!"

"Why wouldn't anyone take our word? As if we'd stoop to lying like a dirty fucking human. You meatsacks are scared of us because you assume we'd think like you do. Don't put us on your level. We highbloods are the pinnacle of existence."

"And why should I take your word on that, either! We will never trust you soulless assholes. Not until there's accountability, democracy... not until there's rules in place to stop you abusing your power."

A smirk crawled over Cartman's features. "Oh? And why should we care what you think? We're being very generous to tolerate you on the level we do. You should be grateful."

Kyle opened his mouth to snap something back, face flushing with anger, but Cartman interrupted.

"You're boring me to tears here. Do we have to do this every time? Let's just focus on the business at hand, 'kay?"

Kyle shut his mouth, vaguely embarrassed. He'd almost forgotten he was in a room of fucking corpses. That... really didn't happen often. Even when he was angry he was usually the picture of deadly professionalism.

"Whatever."

Cartman hummed, a gleam in his eye. He must have noticed Kyle's embarrassment. "I dunno, Kyle. Look what you did to this place. And now you're getting distracted. Maybe I shouldn't waste my time on such a shitty hunter."

"Fucking hell Cartman!! Would you just get to the point already!!"

"Okay, fine. Look, I know you noticed something off about this gig. You might be a shitty hunter but you're not dumb."

"Oh geez, that's the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me."

"You're welcome. Now, tell me. What did you notice?"

"Not all of us have centuries to waste our fucking time--"

"Kyle! Would you quit it!" Cartman screeched, finally losing his cool, too. "I am trying to help you out here!"

"Maybe I don't need your fucking help! I am perfectly--"

"You do. The things you just shot up? Not lowbloods, Kyle. They were ex-humans, and you are in a lot more trouble than you realise."

Kyle's breath left him like he'd been punched. Ex-humans? Oh god...

That meant that, unlike all other vampires, these had once been human. They'd been turned, most likely deliberately...

"Did you do this!" Kyle yelled, swinging his gun back up at Cartman. His stomach was roiling. He'd never killed a human before. Did they count as human? Close enough. Oh shit.

"Kyle, as magnificent as I am, I am not a pureblood, and only purebloods have the ability to turn people. You know that. Now stop freaking out and point that thing somewhere else."

Kyle dropped the sight slightly, still on edge. If these ex-humans had been turned, then perhaps the one who had turned them was around. Perhaps not, though. Cartman had incredibly heightened senses, could probably sense every creature for miles around, and he didn't seem to be wary.

"Then... do you know who did?"

"No. I was sent here to find out," said Cartman, moving over to a corpse, shells from Kyle's uzi tinkling as he walked. "Unfortunately, some dickweed went and shot them all up with a consecrated fucking machine gun. Just super, Kyle."

Kyle swallowed a retort. How was he meant to know. He'd never seen an ex-human before. Purebloods were rare, and purebloods that didn't kill the humans they took were even rarer. Not that these looked any different from the lowbloods he took care of regularly. All vampires looked practically the same when they were starving and desperate.

But, snapping at Cartman now would be a waste of time. They couldn't afford to get derailed again. Cartman might disappear again, if he got too bored, and Kyle realised he needed the intel.

"Hm. Well. How did you know these ex-humans would even be here?"

"It's family business, Kyle," said Cartman, tracing the throat of a dead ex-human with his finger. "Humans aren't sophisticated enough to understand the delicate matters at stake. We'll handle this ourselves. You can tell your elders so, and make sure they're grateful for what we are doing for you."

Kyle bristled. "If they are turning humans, then it's my family's business, too."

"Don't get involved, Kyle. Just... don't. Go back to the hunter's bastion and chill for a while. I don't know what their plans were, but some pureblood took the time to cultivate and prime this herd, and you killed them all. There's a good chance they will be looking for revenge."

"Why should I care," said Kyle. He knew deep down, but he wasn't willing to say anything to Cartman that sounded like he knew vampires were stronger. Cartman would take it as Kyle conceding that vampires were superior.

Cartman turned, his eyes flashing red, and the room dropped a few degrees. "You've never met a pureblood, so I can forgive this as a display of the usual human ignorance. Trust me. You don't want to meet one. Maybe the benevolence of our lord the Thorn King has made you forget your species-deep fear of the ancient power of a pureblood."

Cartman stalked closer, shadows seeming to cling to his form. "I would never suggest that my Lord is mistaken in His choices. But I do think... if you are not going to be grateful for our protection, then at least be very fucking afraid."

In a blink Cartman had disappeared. Kyle swore, suddenly feeling very alone.


	2. She Won't Sit and Beg

Kyle toed off his boots and threw himself onto his bed with a tired noise. It had been a really fucking long day. He was sore all over from the fight that morning and the ride home, and tired as all hell from having to recount his story over and over all day. First to his dad, then the elders, then again for the scribes.

Almost as soon as he had closed his eyes, there was a sharp rap at his door. Kyle growled and heaved himself up again, crossing the narrow space between his plain bed and the heavy wooden door to give the key a twist.

He turned back to flop face-down on the bed immediately; he knew the knock.

The door pushed open, footsteps padded across the floor, and then something warm and heavy was flopping down right beside him.

"Staaaaan," Kyle groaned.

"Kyyyyyyyle," Stan teased back, poking him in the side. Kyle grabbed his wrist, and Stan jabbed him with the other hand, and then they were wrestling on the narrow bed and huffing with laughter.

Kyle won by getting a hold of Stan's finger and giving it an unscrupulous twist.

"Fuck!" yelled Stan, flapping and letting go. "Stop, stop!"

Kyle grinned and let go. He rolled off Stan and lay on his back, feeling the energy from their tussle fizz out of his limbs and the bone-tiredness seep back in.

"I'm pretty beat, dude," said Kyle. "I know I said we'd hang after I got back, but I just kinda want to hit the sack."

Stan had to have been giving the back of his head the prickliest stare. "Seriously, Kyle? You said that last time! And the time before that!"

"Muuuugh cut me some slack, come on. I've had a pretty rough day."

"Yeah well, it's been months of this. Ever since you became a full-fledged hunter, you take every opportunity to go out there and murder things, you have no time for anything any more."

"Yeah well," muttered Kyle, "we'd get to hang out a lot more if you'd pass your test already and come out and murder things with me."

It was an old argument, a bruise between them that they were usually smart enough to avoid touching. 

There was a short awkward silence, broken when Kyle groaned. "Okay, okay. But can we just lie here for a bit first."

"Sure. So what did you do today?"

Kyle geared himself up for his fourth retelling of the day. At the end of it, Stan was pale, brows furrowed.

"So, in the face of this fucking horrific mess, all the King did was send out one shitty fat vampire?"

"Hey," said Kyle, "his weight isn't exactly relevant."

"Oh my god Kyle shut up. Don't you see what a gross violation of basic rights all this is? The people in power don't even give enough fucks about us to take any of this seriously."

Kyle turned and stared.

"How many humans do you think have been turned?" Stan continued. "Humans with families and friends and dreams and goals. And yet none of it matters to those royal assholes as long as they get to laze around in their fucking silk-and-crumpets castle getting everything handed to them."

"Well that's what we're for," said Kyle, but he squirmed a little. He had been trying not to think about those ex-humans. 

Putting down vampires who had been murdering innocent people was one thing. That was the whole point of the settlement at the Bastion--for hundreds of years, their clans had passed on the skills and the responsibility of protecting the humans in the surrounding towns. But killing vampires that had once been human... ex-human victims of the common enemy... well. 

Kyle decided he was going to have to get over it. Besides, the ex-humans he had shot had looked like mindless, slavering beasts to him. There was probably nothing worthy left in them, mind and heart replaced by some sickening drive to kill and feed. It was probably kinder to have put them out of that misery.

Stan was staring angrily at his hands. "We shouldn't have to fight."

"I like it," said Kyle. "Don't you feel good, knowing you're doing the right thing, protecting people?"

"No. Because I'm not sure we're doing the right thing. Just because this is the way it has been for hundreds of years doesn't mean it's the best way. I mean, why not try to figure out what's wrong with society that this happens in the first place? Why just go around shooting things?"

"That's what the elders are doing, dude, maintaining relations with the highbloods, getting more power for humans, pushing for transparency."

"Yeah, and the elders haven't made a lick of progress in over a century. Things will never change like this."

"Does it even matter that much? We have autonomy. We even have formal permission from the King to take care of issues our own way. We have a home, we have our families, what do you want? Do you want to laze around in a silk-and-whatever castle yourself?"

"No," said Stan, eyes steely. "But I want everyone to have an equal chance to get there."

Kyle pushed his fists into his own eyes. Why did Stan have to have these fucking pipe dreams? He was never going to be happy. That was fucking painful to think about.

"I'm not going to be able to sleep now," Kyle muttered. Stan just kept staring at the wall. Hrrrg.

"Then, do you want to come into town with me?"

"Why?"

"I thought I'd go see Kenny."

Ohh. Kyle twinged with guilt. He hadn't seen Kenny in months. It was just difficult finding the time to go to town for pleasure, and he would have felt weird seeing Kenny right after he'd been killing vampires.

"Yeah, okay, I'll come."

"What, really?"

"Why are you so surprised?"

Stan gave him a look, and Kyle felt even guiltier. Yeah, he really had been blowing them off for a while.

On the ride through the forest to town, the guilt inside Kyle started to morph into slight resentment. Why didn't Stan understand? They were growing up, and of course that came with responsibilities. Stan was the one being weird and dithering around not getting his qualification for solo assignments. Kyle could never have done that. He'd feel like he was letting everyone down. Why didn't Stan get that?

The sun was sinking in the sky and casting a brilliant orange over the landscape as they reached the town. 

As the dirt road became stone under his horse's hoofs, Kyle scanned the streets carefully. They were nowhere near the convent he had cleared out this morning, luckily. Be very fucking afraid, Cartman had said. Not that Kyle was scared. Really. He had held his own that morning perfectly fine. 

So'ton was the biggest town within the reach of the Bastion, if not the biggest town in the Thorn King's domain. Kyle didn't really care much about the town itself. It was grimy and overpopulated, nothing like the simple, honest cleanliness of the Bastion. 

Kyle was glad he lived in the modern age, and doubly glad that he was born into a hunting clan. He was strong and capable and well fed.

Stan would nag at him about the impact of vampires blah blah, but whatever. Kyle was allowed to kill asshole vampires that overstepped the line with his very own lovely guns; he was more than happy with his lot in life.

They pulled up outside a run-down old hotel, white paint peeling from the metal balustrade on the upper balcony, windows on the ground level yellow with dust.

Kyle and Stan dismounted and tied their horses to the posts provided.

"How's things, guys?"

Kyle looked up and smiled. Kenny was leaning lazily on the rail upstairs, a cracked beer mug in his hand. 

Stan took one of the bags off his horse and handed it to Kyle. Now that Kyle was looking, Stan really had packed a lot more bags than usual. It didn't seem like they were for Kenny, though, as he wasn't even taking them off the horse.

Kyle shouldered the one bag and followed Stan into the hotel, feeling his skin prickle despite himself. This place wasn't really an establishment for humans. Not that it really deserved a word with as many syllables as 'establishment'. This was the kind of place that vampires at the end of their rope came to piss away their last few coins and maybe crash on an actual mattress for a night. 

The highblood rulers of the kingdom also had little concern for the lowbloods of their own species. They made up the vast majority of society, populated and ran most of the towns. But the cracks in said society ran wide and deep and many people fell through, and in towns like this vampires like Kenny were the oily puddles in the gutters, the garbage in the alleyways. They fought and killed each other, and despite the Thorn King's mandates, in desperation they fought and ate humans. 

These types made up the bulk of the issues hunters at the Bastion were dispatched to remove.

They moved up the dusty creaking stairs inside, Kyle resolutely ignoring the gleaming eyes roving over him and Stan, and came out on a landing. Kenny was waiting for them with his door open, all dirty blonde hair and pale grimy skin, just like always.

"Hey, Kenny," said Stan. 

"Hey," replied Kenny, rocking happily on his heels. "Haven't seen your ugly mugs in an age feels like."

"Ah, sorry about that," said Kyle. "I've been pretty busy with hunter stuff lately, you know how it is."

Kyle held out the bag. Kenny grabbed it happily and started to go through the cans of meat and vegetables he found in there, then pulling out a paper bag and counting the bloodsub tablets inside.

"No shit you've been busy," said Kenny. "I already heard what happened this morning. Dudes. Like, what were you even thinking."

Kyle winced. "I was just doing my job."

"Well, word on the street is that someone pretty fucking old is here in town, old as old as old as the ice in the hills. And that they're gonna shake shit up like you never seen."

"Will you be okay?" 

Kenny punched Stan in the arm. "Pffff. Don't worry. Someone like that wouldn't even bother to look twice at a shitstain like me. It's you fucknuts I'd be worried about."

"I'll be fine," said Kyle. "I told the Bastion what happened. They'll have it all covered."

Kenny gave him a sad look. "You trust too much, kid."

Being condescended to made something angry twist in Kyle's gut. 

"Dude, you don't even know how old you are so don't pull that condescending 'kid' crap with me."

"I known you forever, haven't I? So shut up and listen to your elder, kiddo," laughed Kenny. His blood was as low as a vampire's could get, so his slowed aging wasn't as pronounced as someone higher, but it was true. He had looked around this age for all the years they'd known him, at least ten years so far. Then again, soon they were going to pass him.

Oh great, another fucking depressing thought tangent. This day was turning out to be fucking wonderful all round. 

"Anyway," Kenny continued, "it's getting pretty dark. You're damn brave for coming back to this town today as it is, dudes, and I'm real appreciative of the bomb ass grub you brought me, but you'd better split."

"Okay," said Kyle, reluctantly. He hadn't seen Kenny in so long, and then he'd wasted the tiny amount of time they had together being an asshole? Damn.

"Actually, I think I'm going to stay here tonight," said Stan, quietly.

Kyle paused. "Why?"

"I dunno." Stan wouldn't look him in the eye. "I don't really want to go back there right now."

Kyle boggled. "Huh?"

"I'm... still pretty angry about what happened today. And I want to do some scouting tonight, talk to some people, get some intel maybe."

"The elders will put someone on that soon, you don't have to do it."

Stan shifted, setting his shoulders. "No, they won't. They will make some token effort that will take forever through the same tired old channels, and then they will fuck around even longer because they know they can't really do anything if it's a highblood and they don't want to jeopardise anything with the royal family."

There was a giant chasm opening up under Kyle. He knew Stan, and he knew this had been building for a while. He knew this was a lot bigger than 'tonight'. He glanced at Kenny, who looked utterly unsurprised at this. Suddenly all the bags made sense.

"No, Stan, you're being fucking dumb, you're coming home."

"No." Stan looked Kyle square in the eyes. "I don't think they are doing it right. I have a better idea and I have to start putting it into action while there's momentum, as in, right now. I need... I mean, I thought you'd understand, maybe help me later, but--"

"How the hell could I?" Kyle interrupted, feeling sick. "You're going to get yourself killed."

"Well thanks for believing in me!" shouted Stan. "I was only going to say you should go home to the Bastion anyway, in case that highblood comes after you, but whatever! You can fucking desert me when I need you--"

"--No," said Kyle. "Just no. I am too fucking tired for this. I am going home, and I am going to tell the elders you've left, and I'm getting some sleep, and them I'm going to come back and punch you in the face."

"You do that!" yelled Stan.

"Fine!" yelled Kyle.

He stormed out of the hotel, got on his horse and rode right through the centre of town, out into the dark forest.


	3. What Set You Free and Brought You To Me, Babe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for dub-con.

Carman slinked through the trees, following the heavy warm smell of blood in the night air. Well, perhaps it was only heavy to his perfect nose. They were right to send him. He may have been young, but he was fucking awesome.

Beckoning shadow to cover him more carefully, and consciously dampening the impression he would make on other more subtle senses, he moved practically invisibly towards what seemed to be a human styled brick house. Humans tried to live in the dumbest places. They were like weeds.

Scanning the area, Cartman couldn't sense anything around apart from boring things like birds and insects. Seemed like the pureblood was gone, but the smell of their blood, thrilling and heady, was all around. The thought of someone spilling that forbidden blood made Cartman's pulse throb. 

It gave him such a dizzying reaction that he almost didn't realise what else he was smelling, until he opened the door to the hut.

Oh.

All the furniture inside was torn apart and coated in sticky dark blood, smeared across the walls and floor. Cartman's boot crunched loudly on a piece of broken glass, and something stirred in the corner. Something that Cartman's eyes had been riveted to since opening the door.

It was Kyle, almost unrecognisable but for the familiar tang of his scent. His usual hat was lost, red hair dull and matted to his skull. He was dirty and bloodied and bruised.

When he lifted his face, his eyes were glowing red.

Cartman eyed him, thoughts warring. Almost absently he noted that he was in no danger (not that a highblood was ever really in danger, ha), but Kyle's arms were bound behind him and chained to a heavy iron ring in the wall. 

"What do we have here," said Cartman, even through his deep surprise unable to keep a note of gloating out of his voice. Here was Kyle, fucking too-good-for-everyone hunter extraordinaire Kyle, beaten and bitten and helpless. 

Kyle made a weak movement towards him, baring his teeth. Moving on instinct like an animal. 

The reminder killed the mood. How was he supposed to hold this over the asshole if he wasn't in his right mind? If he…

"You... must have held your own," said Cartman in wonder, looking around at the damage, piecing together the fight that had obviously occurred. "You did better than I would have expected."

He crouched down next to Kyle, whose eyes burned into him, tracking him. "They decided to make you starve, didn't they? You hungry?" 

"I'd... rather.... die..."

Cartman looked down, startled. 

Kyle looked up at him, eyes full of loathing and fear. Perhaps not of Cartman. 

"Just... do it already..."

What Kyle wanted was clear on his face. He wanted to die. Anger shot through Cartman. Being ex-human was scum, but it was still better than being fucking human. This was a gift. This was great. Kyle had always interested Cartman, enough to make him feel vaguely irritated whenever he was reminded that the kid wouldn't be around forever. 

And now the kid was part of his hunt, his best lead at that. This was going to be awesome.

"No way man, this is too sweet!"

Kyle's eyes fluttered shut with pain. Cartman smirked, tilting his head to the side and watching Kyle's eyes snap open again, tracking his throat unwillingly. 

Cartman could see the tail ends of thoughts blurring behind Kyle's eyes, could almost taste the pain in his throbbing head. The longer he went without feeding, the more likely his soul would be burned away for good. Then he'd be less than an ex-human. He'd be nothing more than a beast.

Yeah no, that wasn't going to happen.

He thought for a second. The pureblood definitely wouldn't be back here for a while. The place seemed to have been ransacked of any belongings, and Kyle had been bolted to the wall and left to die. 

Kyle's jaws snapped ungracefully as Cartman lifted him by the back of his shirt, staring with a smirk down into his eyes. 

"Here are the facts," whispered Cartman, feeling Kyle’s strangled breaths against his face. "It took a lot of energy to turn. You'd be hungry anyway, and now you're losing blood on top. You need to drink, or you'll turn into a mindless beast. Irreversibly. I know you know that."

"No..." Kyle managed.

"Yes," said Cartman. "I know you're never grateful for what I do for you. And as hilarious as I think it'd be to see you put down by your own family--" Kyle's eyes squeezed shut again-- "I think it'd make my life pretty boring. Besides, how could I pass up an opportunity to have you indebted to me? There might be a thing or two I want from you."

He pressed Kyle's face into the crook of his shoulder, like a sick parody of a hug. He could feel Kyle's eyelashes trembling against the soft skin there.

As a hunter, Kyle had to know what this was for vampires. He had to know how intimate it was. He couldn't know, however, that it was a huge taboo for a highblood to be bitten by anyone lower than their station. This was massively fucked up, and by any rights, it should be Kyle getting pinned and broken in good and proper right now. But blood loss, hunger, blah blah blah. Cartman could endure one small humiliation for the sake of bigger things.

Kyle shuddered, mouth dragging open slowly as he fought his instincts. "Fuck... you," he said. Then he bit down, penetrating hard enough to bruise.

Oh hell fucking no.

Kyle was really shit at drinking. Not that he could expect Kyle had any practice, but it irritated Cartman even further to see his priceless highblood inheritance getting wasted as it trickled down Kyle's messy lips and between their bodies.

Ow, fuck, who was he kidding, no he fucking couldn't endure one small humiliation. This was terrible. Even if Kyle hadn't been raised to think of this as intimate, his new vampire body sure knew, cock going hard against Cartman's stomach, like he was going to fuck him too. 

Cartman held still for a few seconds, learning the new feeling of blood draining from his body, of Kyle clumsily jolting his fangs inside flesh and tearing the wound. The sensations set Cartman's whole body throbbing and tingling. 

"I hope you are fucking grateful for this," growled Cartman, and Kyle pulled his mouth from Cartman's neck, blood dripping from his chin. He let out a choked sob, wiping his face against Cartman's shoulder, before biting down and sucking hard again.

Motherfucker.

"You desperate little slut," said Cartman, and Kyle jolted in his arms, but didn't stop sucking. Ngh. Well, this was interesting, to say the least. 

Kyle’s wounds were already beginning to heal, and colour was returning to his skin. There was a good reason highbloods had the rules they did. Cartman pushed him down into the ground without breaking contact, trapping the former hunter's chained arms underneath him. Kyle made a pained sound, but Cartman hushed him. Vampires didn't need the same paper doll treatment that humans did. Thin legs clamped desperately around Cartman’s large hips and Kyle made a high noise, tearing his mouth away for the second time, the smell of blood bright in the air. 

Maybe this wasn’t so bad. Somehow despite the fangs in his neck this was the polar opposite of submission.

Cartman braced himself over Kyle, enjoying how he felt pinned helpless and out of control underneath him. He smirked, feeling Kyle's cock press against his stomach. Feeling Kyle's hips writhe against him felt great even through so much fabric, the throbbing in his neck turning into something heady and hot. 

"I've always watched you.”

"I know," Kyle panted. "I know, fuck."

"Did you want this then?" asked Cartman, still as stone.

"No..." Kyle moaned, rutting desperately against him. "Ahh... no..."

"Liar," said Cartman. "You did. But you were ashamed. You ashamed now?"

Kyle's face was bright red, but Cartman's huge bulk was forcing his thighs open and his arms were trapped, and Cartman could hear the rushing and thundering in his veins.

What a dent to his pride it must be, getting so hard sucking on Cartman’s blood, humping Cartman like an animal in heat while Cartman just sat there cool as ice and smirking in his face. Was he trying not to think about it? Blind little worm probably didn’t know how to handle his new and improved body and mind. Probably was overwhelmed by the arousal driven out of him in waves building higher and higher and probably wanting it so bad, wanting this so much, knowing he couldn't escape it, he couldn't stop it, he—

Holy shit. Cartman killed that line of thought dead, reining himself in abruptly. He was highblood for fuck’s sake. 

After a few more shuddery thrusts Kyle arched up hard against Cartman's stomach with a bitten-off cry before going completely limp, wrung out, bone tired. 

He closed his eyes and Cartman rolled him over to fiddle with the chains, freeing him. The chains were crusted with dark blood, but Kyle’s wrists were soft and whole. 

Kyle didn’t move.

"You okay?" asked Cartman. He winced internally at the way his voice came out. Not quite as unruffled as he had been going for.

"...Yeah," said Kyle, stirring. "Um."

"You don't have to thank me," said Cartman, and this time he managed to sound smug.

Kyle just looked away. Rude little fuck.

"What do I do now..." he muttered.

"You're coming with me," said Cartman, slightly surprised. "You fought the pureblood, right? You're going to tell us what happened here. And since they sired you, you'll be the perfect tool to help us find them."

Kyle looked at Cartman like he’d grown an extra head. Oh right, he wouldn’t know about that. Ugh, this was going to be really tedious, wasn’t it?

"I don't know," said Kyle. "I don't know if I want... this..." 

‘To be my life’. Cartman could see it in his eyes. 

"Are we really doing this? You are so stronger than that. Now come on, we have a bad guy to catch."


	4. Dancing To My Door

One foot forwards.

The leaf litter under Kyle's feet was rubbery and slimy. He trudged on, pressing through darkness so thick and silent around him that he could feel it pushing down on his shoulders. The canopy above was so heavy not even starlight reached them. Or maybe it was Cartman doing something?

Kyle didn't care.

Another foot forwards.

His wounds were perfectly healed, and as Cartman's blood had spread through his body, even his head had stopped screaming. He didn't feel angry, or scared, or sad. And when he started to think about why he should, he. He couldn't. It was something waiting at the back of his mind with wicked razor teeth. Something so enormous and infinitely black that if he let himself look at it it he knew he'd stop moving forever.

Kyle slipped in the muck and landed heavily on his knee.

"For fuck's sake," growled Cartman, materialising beside Kyle and jerking him roughly to his feet. "Since when were you this clumsy?"

"Asshole," Kyle rasped. "It's dark."

"You're a frigging vampire, dude, you can see in the dark."

Kyle felt a sharp spike in his stomach. "No."

"No, what? No you can't see in the dark? Or no, you're not a vampire? Cause I don't know if you've noticed--"

"Of course I fucking noticed." Kyle realised his fingers were clamped like needles into Cartman's fleshy arm. "I know. I know. Don't..."

Cartman easily prised Kyle's fingers off. There was a short silence. Some part of Kyle was remembering their verbal sparring, the way things had always gone when the two of them crossed paths. That part was too small and tired to even feel embarrassed about the way Cartman was probably staring at him right now. His throat clicked painfully. 

"Whatever, be a giant baby, I don't really care. But look. Yeah, you may only be an ex-human. But that's the best someone born with your lot in life can be! You should be proud. You don't even know, man, you don't even know."

Kyle's throat was throbbing tightly. He couldn't make his voice come out.

"...Whatever," huffed Cartman. "Ignore me. But I'm going to tell you anyway. You've moved up in the world. You can run faster, you can jump further. You can move like silk on steel. You can sense pulses... not sure of your range, seeing as you're only ex-human. But I swear on my big beautiful balls, Kyle, you can at least see in the fucking dark."

But he couldn't. He could barely see the pale circle of Cartman's face hanging in the gloom.

"Ugh, stop standing there like a stunned mullet," Cartman said, sounding strangely tense. "It's all in the peripheral vision, dumbass. How did you even live this long as a human?"

To his surprise, Kyle realised that Cartman was right. Letting his focus shift to the things at the corner of his eyes, Kyle could make out the shapes of trees and rocks. His surroundings became more distinct the more he looked, until everything was silvery and clear.

"My eyes are way superior so I don't have to bother," said Cartman, and now Kyle could see the smirk planted on his face. "But in a pinch you could focus by putting your head back and looking down your nose at everything."

Cartman looked a little out of place in their wild surroundings, standing there in his crisp tailored shirt and silk vest. He had given Kyle his heavy cloak, probably because Kyle's own clothes were more than worse for wear, torn and tacky with blood, and-- he was going to focus on that tiny spark of gratitude, instead.

"That explains a lot about vampires," Kyle managed, finally. His throat felt raw, but his voice didn't waver.

Cartman snorted, but he sounded somewhat entertained.

"Whaaaatever. You going to be able to walk without falling on your ass now?"

Kyle nodded and took a careful step forwards, securing his footing where the ground looked most even.

They kept going.

Actually, the forest was anything but silent, now that Kyle was listening. Insects were singing through the night, birds were shuffling in their sleep. A stick cracked somewhere.

Cartman was silent, though. Kyle had always wondered how someone that big made so little sound. He wondered if he could be so quiet, too. That would have come in handy when he was hunting. When he was.

Was.

Kyle's mind slid away from that thought and onto Cartman's words. He could run faster? And move better? Hear heartbeats...? What would Dad--

For a second the world faded in and out. Kyle twisted his fingers hard into the cloak and forced himself to breathe.

"Hey. How much further do we have to go?"

"Are you seriously fucking complaining about how long this is taking?"

"Would you just--"

"Cause if you hadn't figured it out, we're going this slow for your sake. You're welcome, by the--"

"Oh my god!!" yelled Kyle. "Shut up! Just show me how you run, I'll keep up."

In the half-light from the corner of his eye, Kyle saw Cartman's features pull strangely.

"Not if you're going to... push yourself... I mean, I don't expect people who aren't me to recover that fast from shit like what went down tonight."

Kyle was silent for a moment, trying to work out whether this was Cartman being an ass, or Cartman caring. Maybe the two weren't all that easily separable. Maybe Kyle was tired and grasping at straws. 

"I have to learn my limits," he said, eventually. "I'll have to push myself."

"Yeah, I knew you'd say that." Catman flipped over a stone with his boot, packed the dirt back down. "Okay, here we go. Running lesson." 

"What are you grinning for?"

"Oh, Kyle. I'm just so happy to be able to educate you on how things are really done."

Kyle managed an eye roll, and Cartman's grin stretched wider.

In fact, the grin stayed on Cartman's face the whole way through the lesson and even as they ran. It was a little unnerving to be moving so fast, faster than even horses, but Kyle welcomed the tiny challenge in every flex of muscle, mind centred by motion, feeling truly grounded in the sinews of his body for the first time yet.

Cartman was definitely doing something with the darkness now. Shadows melted from the trees they slipped between, like they were flying through a current of darkness.

"Don't land on the flat of your feet," Cartman said from beside him. 

"I'm not."

"If you weren't you wouldn't be thumping so loud. Relax your ankles." Kyle could see that he was still grinning.

"I know how to run quietly," Kyle groused.

"Then do it."

Kyle did it. 

Cartman snorted. 

"You know what I can do, you know I'm a top hunter," said Kyle, and this time there were no pangs. His body was humming with the run. "Stop treating me like a baby."

"Sorry," muttered Cartman, "but it's hard not to think of you as a virgin to all this when a few hours ago you were humping all over me having your first feed."

"Oh my god," said Kyle, "no, we are not talking about that."

Cartman giggled. 

"You know what," shouted Kyle, "if we are going to talk about that, then how about we talk about your awful corny dirty talk."

"Whaaaatever, I'm not the one who jizzed his pants to that corny dirty talk."

Kyle almost ran into a tree. Cartman's giggle only got more annoying. 

"Look," Kyle snapped, getting back into the rhythm, "I'm not going to let you make me feel ashamed about what happened. I couldn't fucking help it. Get over it."

It was true, Kyle realised. There were a lot of horrible things he was trying to put out of mind, but what happened between them wasn't one of them.

Cartman merely grinned.

They flickered through the forest for hours until they finally broke the edge of the trees, and Kyle found himself flying over flat moorland. The sky was glittering black and endless overhead, pressing from horizon to horizon like giant cupped hands, and everything spread around them for miles was touched in silver in Kyle's new eyes. 

"How long?" he gasped, clutching the cloak tighter around his shoulders.

"When you can hear the sea, we'll almost be there," Cartman replied. Kyle started. He hadn't realised they were going so far. 

They bounded over stones and up and down slopes, crossing trails and streams and even one small shepherding settlement until the ground under their feet was nothing but stone and the wind in Kyle's face was sharp with salt, and then he realised he could hear the nostalgic rush of the ocean.

Cartman stopped atop a large boulder, grabbing Kyle's arm to halt him, too. Kyle's legs twinged at the sudden stillness, his whole body buzzing and warm under the cloak. 

Before them, the ground fell away into a sheer cliff, beneath which the open ocean and the sky bled into one inky, glimmering abyss. Turning his face into the biting wind, Kyle could see that a little further up the coast, a great flat chunk of headland stood alone high above the sea. Upon it sat a great stone castle, solid and square, studded with lights that burned through the night.

"That's where we're going," Cartman said. He shifted his weight. "This is going to be a delicate fucking matter so listen good. You know what it is, right?"

"Yeah," said Kyle, his own voice sounding distant in the wind. "That's Dùn Claigeann."

"Cool," says Cartman, "you even know the proper name. I was expecting you to use that dumb thing humans say."

Kyle could hear 'that dumb thing humans say' ringing in his ears like crystal. It was in Stan's voice.

"Anyway," Cartman continued, gazing back out over the ocean, "yep, that's Dùn Claigeann. So, as you should already know, that's like, the nerve centre of nobility. Everybody inside those walls is somebody, from those chosen to receive the privilege to serve, to the Thorn King himself. Come on, let's walk and talk."

Cartman hopped down from the boulder, and began picking his way along the edge of the cliff. Kyle followed in silence.

"And the thing about aristocrats? They are the most ruthless, cutthroat pack of vultures you'll ever find. The name of the game is leverage."

Kyle stepped around a tuft of waxy grass. "Leverage for what?"

"What do you think? Getting out of shit, getting into shit, making people like you, getting rid of people who hate you, the usual. You don't need to worry about specifics. The reason I'm bringing it up is that you have to be careful, cause everyone in that castle will be trying to work out how to use you. You need to stay away, and you need to stay quiet. In fact," Cartman said, stopping, "we're going to sneak in the back door, tonight at least."

Now that they were closer, Kyle could see that the rock on which the castle was built was connected to the mainland by a narrow strip of rock that served as a natural bridge. It seemed like the only way in or out of the castle.

"I'll take your word for it that there's a back door..."

"And you should. I was born in this castle, I know it back to front." There was something strange in Cartman's tone, but Kyle didn't have time to process it before Cartman continued. "There's a super skinny tunnel near the base that leads to the top. It's a squeeze but it will do." This Kyle had even less time to process, before Cartman was jumping off the cliff. Kyle sucked in a shocked breath. 

"Are you coming or what!" came Cartman's voice.

"Where am I supposed to jump! I can't see shit!" hissed Kyle. 

An exasperated groan floated up from somewhere beneath his feet, and then suddenly Cartman was beside him again. "Guess ex-human eyes really don't match up to mine. Look." He grabbed Kyle's arm and pointed. Kyle tried to follow with his eyes. "See there, down there. The grassy bits."

Sure enough, underneath where they were standing, all the way down the side of the cliff were little outcrops. Kyle could just make out the silvery grass. 

"If you follow those down, you'll make it to the water. Then it's just a matter of getting over to the base. I know the way, so if you just follow me exactly, you won't die."

Kyle glared.

"Come on, then."

Cartman disappeared again, but this time, training his eyes hard, Kyle managed to spot where he landed. 

Thinking that there wasn't much to lose at this point anyway, he jumped off.

It wasn't really that difficult to follow Cartman down the cliff. The sound of the waves increased to a roar as they got closer to where the ocean pounded at the rock. Wiping spray from his eyes, Kyle watched the way Cartman picked his way across the jagged stones jutting up from the waves, and followed him across step for step.

Although the castle's island looked like it was supported by sheer cliff, Kyle found himself on a small outcrop near the base barely big enough for two people to stand on, back pressed flat to a boulder. He clutched at Cartman's arm for balance, and found the other man's shirt soaked through. Kyle himself was mostly dry, thanks to the heavy cloak. Huh. Maybe that's why Cartman wore it.

Cartman grunted and pulled Kyle around the edge of the boulder behind them, and into a dry tunnel. There were steps cut into it which reached up and up into the gloom.

"Up there. We have to be very quiet now."

They climbed in silence for a few minutes.

"This tunnel isn't as much of a squeeze as you made it sound," Kyle said.

"Shut the fuck up," came Cartman's strangled whisper.

The tunnel came out into a stone pit with a grate over the top, overgrown with weeds. Cartman pushed it up and they crawled out into an empty, grassy courtyard, open to the starlight. 

Cartman led the way along the edge of the courtyard, the shadows on the walls bending over to hide them, to a big wooden door. 

The first thing Kyle saw when the door opened was a big tapestry. He managed to make out a skull crowned in thorns in the design before Cartman pulled him away along the narrow corridor--was this a servant entrance?--and along the edges of a vast hall, to a gigantic stone door. 

"He'll be in here," said Cartman. "Look. He's a pretty chill guy, for all the mystique surrounding him. But be polite. He is our Lord, and no matter how you were raised, you are going to show respect to him. All right."

Cartman pulled open the heavy stone doors.

Through the darkness, Kyle could see that the room on the other side was bare apart from some plain drapes looping through the rafters and a giant wooden throne planted on a dais in the centre.

Seated in the throne was a man in a long white robe held together at the waist with a plain rope. 

"Jesus..." breathed Kyle. Cartman delivered a swift kick to his ankle.

"Good evening, my Lord," said Cartman. "I haven't found the perpetrator yet. But I managed to bring back a victim who might be of use."

The Thorn King opened his ancient eyes and fixed them on Kyle. 

Kyle felt as though his ribs were being cracked open with infinite tenderness, as though the gristle in his chest was being judged in graceful hands. 

His shoulders sagged, he felt tears burning in his eyes. He couldn't cry in front of Cartman but this. This unbearable pain, this immeasurable kindness was cleaving him in two.

"Ah," said the Thorn King. "My poor child."

The world jumped and span like the air was on fire, and then Kyle's stomach swooped, then something thumped into him hard all along his left side. He stared dizzily at Cartman's shoe right by his cheek, and then everything went black.


End file.
